


Cold Eyes, Rising Star

by AdorablyRotten (NovaStarlyght)



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Albinism, Artistic License - Medicine, Backstory, Brief Mention of Blood, Brief Mention of Vomit, Bullying, Character Analysis, Character Study, Chronic Illness, Gen, Gideon's Past, Gideon's Rise to Villainy, Illnesses, Major Illness, Medical Conditions, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series, Villain Motivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 22:19:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NovaStarlyght/pseuds/AdorablyRotten
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lil' Gideon Gleeful was loved and adored by all in the small town of Gravity Falls. No one knew that their popular child psychic had a less than glamorous beginning...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold Eyes, Rising Star

For the first two years of his life, Gideon Charles Gleeful almost never opened his eyes.  
When he did, it hurt. His eyes and his head would burn and ache, until he shut them tight again.  
Buddy Gleeful and his wife worried why their infant child cried loudly after opening then quickly closing his eyes. Why was their little miracle so pale, and so light-haired?

“I’m afraid your son is albinistic,” explained the doctor at the Memphis hospital. Gideon’s father was as concerned as he was confused. “I beg your pardon, doctor? Sorry, ‘fraid I don’t know what that means.”  
The doctor frowned sympathetically. “It means he’s albino, due to a recessive gene. We’ll need to run some tests to fully diagnose the symptoms.”

Mrs. Gleeful began to cry. Why, God? Why their little miracle? She had been told by various physicians over the years she’d most likely never be able to have a child. When she became pregnant, she and her husband knew it was a gift from God.  
Gideon’s parents thought the birth of their son would be the happiest day of their lives. Yet the more the doctors told them, the more their hearts broke.  
Several hours later the same doctor returned to Bud, who was consoling his sobbing wife. “Mr. and Mrs. Gleeful?” he said, “I’m sorry, but I have some bad news.”

The doctor explained that the symptoms of Gideon’s albinism included a skin condition, where he could not tan and could be easily sunburned from even the slightest amount of UV rays, a weak immune system with a high risk for fatal infections, or even cancer, and ocular neuropathy.  
“Ocular neuropathy,” he elaborated for the child’s uninitiated father, “means his optic nerves are damaged. When your son opens his eyes, he is experiencing pain because the light being taken in is too much for his eyes to handle.”  
Gideon’s mother cried more into her husband’s shoulder.  
“Will Gideon be alright, doctor?” Bud asked desperately. “Is there anythin’ ya can do for him? Please, he’s our lil’ miracle! We’ll do anythin’, pay any price! Please, just help our son in any way ya can!”  
The doctor nodded sadly. “We’ll treat him to the best our hospital offers and monitor his condition. With the proper supplements we may be able to strengthen his optic nerves. Of course, this means Gideon will need to stay here for quite some time...”  
With little other choice, the Gleeful family stayed in the hospital for more than the next month.

It wasn’t until nearly two months later that his mother and father finally brought Gideon home with them. They gently put the baby boy in his crib, in his room which they had painted months before, a soft blue with colorful stars... which Gideon could not see, even if his eyes weren’t bandaged for their own protection.  
“We do ask, though, that you bring him in once a month so we can refill his prescriptions and check the status of his neuropathy,” one of the doctors told Bud as Gideon was finally discharged. Over the next two years, Mr. and Mrs. Gleeful did everything they were instructed to. They kept Gideon’s room clean and sterilized, gave him his medication when appointed every day, and kept the bandages over his eyes at all times.  
Additionally, it was recommended that until his immune system had a chance to strengthen, Gideon remain inside whenever possible. While Bud went to work, his wife stayed home with their son. Every night, she prayed for the boy. “Please, Lord… God please, save my son. Save his eyes, keep him well, let him live...”

By the time Gideon was a toddler, his parents began to wonder if their child would ever be able to see. He was two already and still didn’t even know what his own mother and father looked like. Unfortunately, it was a few weeks after Gideon’s second birthday that the doctors had more bad news for the Gleefuls.  
“There’s been little to no improvement in his neuropathy,” one told them, “even with the treatment we’ve been providing. I’m afraid there’s nothing else we can do.”  
“There’s gotta be SOMETHIN’!” Mrs. Gleeful begged, the rail-thin woman shaking and sobbing as she tightly held her husband’s much larger hand. “Bud, tell ‘em it don’t matter what it costs, I’ll do anythin’ t’save his eyes! I’ll even give him mine! Please, I want my boy t’see! I just want ‘im t’see!!”  
“I’m so, so sorry,” the doctor responded with genuine pity. He felt awful for this poor couple, their poor child... “But all I can suggest that may help your son from going blind is that you have him admitted to Angels of Hope Children’s Hospital. They have specialists that can perform ocular surgery on patients that young, and because it’s also a research center, all of his medical expenses would be covered. However, it would involve your family relocating to Dallas...”  
Bud held his wife close, stroking her comfortingly as she continued to cry. He knew there was no decision to be made.  
The next morning, the Gleefuls packed up everything they owned, put their house in the Memphis, Tennessee suburbs up for sale, and left home.

Two days later, the family arrived in Texas where Gideon was taken in by the specialized surgeons at the large Dallas children’s hospital. Mrs. Gleeful was a nervous wreck as she waited with her husband, to find out if there was any chance at all their boy might be given sight. There was nothing Bud could do to distract himself, only try to keep his panicked wife calm. They waited all night, without a wink of sleep... until nearly 6 AM, when they were finally approached by a nurse.  
“Mr. and Mrs. Gleeful?”  
Gideon’s parents looked at her blearily, as she smiled back.  
“Your son’s operation was a success!”

His mother and father entered the room to find Gideon lying in bed, recovering, another doctor standing beside him. “Mr. Gleeful, would you like to do the honors?” the doctor said, gesturing towards the gauze covering the child’s eyes. Mrs. Gleeful was crying again, but this time, they were tears of joy, the same as her husband’s. Having never been more happy to do anything in his life, Bud slowly began to remove his son’s bandages.  
“Good mornin’, starshine. The earth says hello!”

Gideon Charles Gleeful slowly half-opened his eyes, blinking several times, before opening them fully as everything came into view.  
First the very first time, his icy blue eyes saw the world without pain.

✯

“... and they lived happily ever after. The end!”  
Buddy Gleeful closed the storybook and looked over to his son. Gideon grinned brightly, sitting up in his bed.  
“Now lem _me_ read one, dad!” said the five-year-old, practically bouncing with excitement. His father smiled back sympathetically, affectionately patting the boy’s white-haired head. “Maybe another time, sugar-pie, now it’s time for bed! Ya need your rest!”  
“But m’eyes’re gettin’ better! I’m gettin’ real good at readin’!” Gideon protested, before suddenly coughing. It was true his vision had improved, although the view of his father was still somewhat blurry despite sitting right next to him. Bud softly put his hand against his son’s forehead. “You’re a lil’ warm... we don’t want ya gettin’ a fever again so soon, so ya better rest up! Big day ta’morrow!”  
The boy frowned. “I don’t feel sick! And s’just more surgery...”  
“It’s ta’help ya see even better though! Tell ya what, how ‘bout I read ya an extra bedtime story ta’morrow?” Bud responded.  
Gideon pouted. “Two extra stories!”  
“One extra, and I’ll let ya read it.”  
He pouted more. “Ya drive a hard bargain... but s’a deal!” he said, smiling.  
Bud tucked his son into bed and gently kissed him on the top of his head. “G’night, sunshine...” he said, before walking to the door and turning out the lights in Gideon’s hospital bedroom... the one his son had been living in for the past three years, painted baby blue with pastel stars, at special request.

As Bud left the room and closed the door, one of the nurses walked up to him. “Ah, Mr. Gleeful, how’s Gideon doing? All ready for tomorrow?” she asked.  
“As ready as he’s gonna be, I s’pose,” he replied, frowning. “How much more is my boy gonna have t’go through? He’s had half’a dozen operations already.”  
The nurse tried to sound optimistic. “Dr. Bailey is our best ocular surgeon, she’s saved a lot of children from going blind. If there’s anyone who can help your son’s eyesight, it’s her.”  
Unfortunately Bud knew that also meant if she couldn’t, no one could. Was it really so much to ask that for everything Gideon had to deal with, getting sick so often, not even being able to play outside or go to kindergarten and make friends like a normal kid his age, that he at least have working eyes?  
He felt a sympathetic tap on his shoulder as the nurse smiled at him. “Go on home to your wife and let her know everything will be fine.”  
He nodded. There wasn’t much else he could do besides hope for the best. “Thank ya, ma’am.” he answered, before doing as she said.

Gideon’s parents returned to the hospital early the next morning, but the surgery took all day. The only thing they could do was wait anxiously while their son went through what they prayed would be his final eye operation. It wasn’t until early evening when a tall woman walked into the waiting room.  
“Mr. and Mrs. Gleeful?” she said, approaching Bud and his wife. “I’m Dr. Bailey. Come with me, I have some good news!”  
Gideon’s mother and father breathed deep sighs of relief before following the surgeon. Good news was so rare these days.  
“Now there’s still the astigmatism, which I’m afraid with his condition is too risky to attempt correction, but…”  
Dr. Bailey lead them to Gideon’s recovery room, where he lied in bed with bandages around his eyes, like so many times before. “Gideon, are you awake?” the doctor asked softly, to see if he was still sleepy from the anesthesia.  
“Mmm…” the young boy moaned quietly, bleary but conscious.  
At this point it had become tradition for Bud to remove his son’s gauze after each surgery, so he approached Gideon’s bedside along with Dr. Bailey. Mr. Gleeful took off the bandages, but Gideon kept his eyes closed.

“I have a present for you, Gideon!” the doctor said as she took something out of the pocket of her white medical coat. Slowly, he began to open his eyes as a pair of glasses were placed on his head.  
Gideon blinked as he saw his father and Dr. Bailey through the lenses. “Dad…?” he said as his pale freckled face began to light up with excitement, now seeing sharper and more clearly than ever before. “Dad! I can see ya! I can see ya real good now!” he exclaimed.  
Overjoyed, Bud picked up his son and held him tight, while Gideon hugged back. It wasn’t long before Mrs. Gleeful joined them, euphoric as she embraced her husband and child too. The Gleeful family had never matched their name so well.

✯

Gideon walked through the halls of the elementary school, holding his father’s hand and looking at his surroundings curiously. The six-year-old had never been inside a school before. Although it was October and the other children had already been going for over a month now, today would be his first day. Eventually, Buddy and his son stopped in front of the first grade classroom, as he knelt down to the boy.  
“Now, ya’ve got your sunblock and your medicine, right?” Bud asked. Gideon nodded.  
His dad moved a bit of white hair out of his face. “And if ya start not feelin’ well ya ask someone’ta take ya ta’the nurse’s office, alright?”  
He nodded again. “Yeah, I know.”  
Bud smiled as he gave his son a big hug. He was so happy that the doctors decided Gideon was well enough to start school, and had discharged him from the hospital. It was asked he still come in for monthly check-ups, but Mr. Gleeful was ecstatic that his boy could at last, maybe have a halfway normal life.  
“Now go out there and make some friends!”

After his father left, Gideon slowly opened the door to the classroom, peeking inside. At her desk in the front of the room was the teacher, a full-figured woman with red hair, who upon noticing the door partly open got up and walked to it.  
“Ah, ya must be the new student! Well c’mon in, no need t’be shy!” she said, her Texan accent one that was heard constantly in the Dallas area. Gideon did as he was asked, and entered the classroom.  
The teacher turned to to her students, a collective of six and seven-year-olds, in the room which was lively and cutely decorated for Halloween, colored orange and black with little paper pumpkins, bats, ghosts and witches lining the walls and windows.  
“Attention ev’ryone! We’ve got someone new joinin’ us t’day.” She then turned to Gideon. “Why don’t ya come up here and introduce ya’self?”

At the front of the class stood a tiny, chubby albinistic boy with icy blue eyes. His white hair was long because he liked it that way and refused to cut it, tied in a braid to keep it from getting tangled. His pale face was freckled and he wore round glasses, a blue shirt with a black hooded jacket, black slacks and blue slip-on shoes. Nervously, he smiled.  
“H-Hi there! M’name’s Gideon. I hope we can all be friends!”

The other children only stared at him, before one spoke up.  
“Ms. Jasmine, why is his hair white? Is he old?”  
Gideon suddenly blushed, embarrassed. That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting.  
“Now now, Gideon’s just a normal kid like the rest’a y’all, so let’s get along okay?” Ms. Jasmine said as she gave the first-graders an authoritative look.  
“How ‘bout ya have a seat behind Angela?” She pointed to an empty desk by the window, behind a blonde girl with pigtails.  
“Ew, no, he’s weird!” Angela reacted.  
“That’s not very nice, Angela!” the teacher said to her sternly. Ms. Jasmine smiled at Gideon, who was more flustered than ever. “Just ignore her,” she told him, gesturing for him to take a seat anyway.

Gideon sat at the unoccupied desk and placed his backpack down. Angela looked back and grimaced, before scooting her desk up an inch or two away from him. He awkwardly glanced down, then out the window. Until the bell rang, no one spoke to Gideon, though some of his classmates occasionally stared at him. He’d never felt more uncomfortable.  
He wasn’t… that weird, was he?

✯

At lunchtime, Gideon walked into the cafeteria, looking for a place to sit and eat the lunch his mother had made and packed for him. On his way he passed two older girls, probably second or third grade, who looked at him oddly before quickly walking away.  
He almost sat down at a table with several kids from his class, but they also gave him strange looks. As he walked away to find somewhere else, he heard one of them say to the others “Jeez, what a freak!”  
Eventually he found a table with only one other person sitting there, a ginger boy about seven years old with very curly hair. Gideon sat down next to him.  
“Hey, are you new here?” the boy asked, turning to him.  
“Y-Yeah, m’name’s Gideon. What’s your’s?”  
“I’m Andrew. How come your hair’s white?”  
“Um… s’always been that way…”  
“Really? Wow.”  
Gideon smiled shyly at Andrew. It was nice finally having someone to talk to, although it wouldn’t last long.

Soon several more boys approached the table, around Andrew’s age.  
“Whoa, Andy, what’s this freak doin’ sittin’ at our table?” asked one of them.  
“He’s not a freak, Trevor, he’s just got weird hair!” Andrew replied. That didn’t make Gideon feel any better.  
“I’ll say it’s weird!” Trevor said. “Why’s it so long? Ya sure he’s not a girl?”  
“I’M NOT A GIRL!” Gideon blurted back at them.  
“I dunno, I think he’s really a girl! We should check!” said one of the other boys.  
“Yeah, let’s check!” said another, quickly going around the table and coming towards him. Gideon was suddenly very scared.  
“NO, GET AWAY!” he yelled, before getting up and running away.  
He had someone take him to the nurse’s office, and ate lunch there, where he would eat every day from then on. He never went back to the cafeteria.

✯

On the bus ride home, the other kids continued to avoid Gideon, sitting as far away from him as they could. He couldn’t have been more relieved when the bus arrived at his stop and he immediately got off, and walked down the street until he was finally home.  
When he walked in the door his father was already there, and turned to greet him cheerfully.  
“Well hey, sunshine! How was your first day’a school?” Buddy asked.  
 _It was awful! Everyone was mean to me and said I was weird and called me a freak!_ is what he wanted to say, all while breaking down and crying.  
But he didn’t.  
“... It was fine.” he instead lied, trying to sound apathetic.  
“That’s wonderful, son!” Mr. Gleeful replied, delighted to hear that.  
“M’gonna… um… go do my homework….”  
“Aw now, look at you, such a good lil’ student! I’ll call ya when dinner’s ready, alright?”  
“Mmm…”

As Gideon began to hastily walk towards his room he caught sight of his mother in the living room, cleaning it thoroughly. Due to Gideon’s frequent illness she’d become something of a germaphobe, there was rarely a time anymore where he didn’t see her dusting, washing, or vacuuming something. Especially vacuuming, she vacuumed _a lot._ Thanks to her the house was always basically spotless. Though the stress was making her go grey early, all she wanted was to make sure her boy stayed well.

He headed into his room and closed the door. The six-year-old crawled into his bed, buried his face in his pillow, and cried.  
There was no way he could tell his parents what the other kids at school really thought of him. It was too humiliating. They couldn’t know everyone thought he was weird and a freak.  
So he lied in bed and sobbed, too mortified to tell his parents the truth, until his dad called him for dinner. He went into the bathroom and washed his face so it didn’t look like he’d been crying, before joining his parents at the dinner table. When his mom and dad asked him more about his first day, he continued to claim it was boring and uneventful, as unfeelingly as he could. Afterwards he went back to his room and actually did his homework. It didn’t take very long, he found it really easy.  
Gideon went to sleep that night dreading tomorrow, and every school day after.

The next day at recess, Gideon overheard two girls from his class talking about him, as they sat on the swingset.  
“I hear that new kid has some kinda horrible disease, that’s why he looks so freaky!”  
“I bet he has AIDS or cancer or something!”  
The girls turned around and saw him standing nearby, then immediately got up from the swings.  
“Ah, don’t go near him or he’ll give you cancer!” said one them loudly, as they both ran off.  
Gideon sighed and took a seat on the swing instead, glancing down at the ground. “That’s not how cancer works…” he mumbled to no one.  
_Just ignore them,_ he remembered Ms. Jasmine say. He was trying, he really was, but it was so much easier said than done.  
He rocked back and forth on the swing for a few minutes until Trevor and the rest of the boys from the cafeteria the day before approached the swingset. Gideon looked up and noticed Andrew in the group.  
Trevor and his friends wanted the swings, so he pushed Gideon off, into the dirt. Andrew frowned and said “Sorry, Gideon,” but did nothing to help him. Instead he joined Trevor and the others on the swings.  
Gideon shakily got up on his own and found the teacher. He didn’t tell her what happened. All he said was that he wasn’t feeling well, and asked if he could go to the nurse.

For months, things continued this way. Every day, Gideon was shunned, ridiculed, picked on and pushed around. Once in the hallway he accidentally bumped into a much older boy, probably in the fourth grade. “I’m sorry!” Gideon apologized, but the older boy glared at him and shoved him hard.  
“Watch it, you creepy albino!”  
On a day where Ms. Jasmine had to leave the class alone for a while, Angela, the girl who sat in front of him, chased Gideon around the room with a pair of scissors, trying to cut his hair. “Boys can’t have long hair! If you’re a boy then you have to have it short!” she said as he tried to get away from her, before he ended up running out of the room and to the nurse’s office.

He’d go to the nurse whenever things got really bad, even when he didn’t feel sick. Sometimes he’d stay there for several class periods, just to avoid the other students. Weekends and holidays were the only days Gideon didn’t live in fear of.  
When his father would occasionally ask him things like “Hey, today’s Saturday, why don’t ya call one’a your friends and see if they wanna come over and play?” he had to do his best to hide the fact he didn’t have any friends. He’d tell him things like “I already asked, they’re busy” or “They’re out of town this weekend,” mixing up the excuses so his parents wouldn’t think he was lying. When one of the kids at school took his glasses and broke them, Gideon claimed he lost them, so his family got him new ones.  
Their son’s grades were perfect so Mr. and Mrs. Gleeful didn’t really suspect anything was wrong, but if all else failed he’d simply say he wasn’t feeling well, and stay in his room all day.  
Sometimes he’d do this on weekdays just so he didn’t have to go to school, but not too often. He didn’t want to risk his family thinking he needed to go back to the hospital.  
One day during lunch, he finally got up the courage to tell the nurse he was being bullied, and asked her what to do.  
“They’re just being instigators. You know, trying to get on your nerves,” she said. “If you don’t let them bother you, they’ll leave you alone.”  
What a useless answer. Not that he expected anything else.

It was after returning from Christmas vacation that things took a turn for the worse. Gideon asked to stay inside during recess, because he was now getting beat up on the playground.  
He’d get pushed to the ground and attacked usually in the far corner behind some trees where no one would see, usually by Trevor and his friends but sometimes by other boys, and occasionally even girls.  
When the teacher asked him why, he paused.  
“... Never mind,” he responded. There was no point in telling her. He was forced outside anyway, where he was thrown into the dirt, punched, kicked, and physically abused by his peers.

Once after being kicked repeatedly in the stomach, he threw up. It was after that he actually started going to the nurse when he wasn’t feeling well, which was often. Frequently he was light-headed, nauseous, and very tired. He hadn’t been eating much, or sleeping well. Some days he spent longer lying on the cot in the nurse’s office than he did in class. At his hospital check-ups, the doctors found nothing particularly wrong, no infections or disease. Still, his parents became more and more worried…  
Until one day in March, as he was getting up from his desk, Gideon began to cough. He couldn’t stop coughing, and soon there was blood coming out of his mouth. He passed out onto the classroom floor, and Ms. Jasmine called an ambulance.

Hours later, Gideon opened his icy eyes slowly and wearily. Conscious again, he soon realized where he was. The baby blue walls with pastel stars.. he was lying in bed in his specially painted room at the children’s hospital, where he’d already spent half of his life.  
He hadn’t been here in nearly a year…  
Now it felt like the past several months had all been just a bad dream, and he had finally woken up.

✯

On his seventh birthday, Gideon’s parents brought him a vanilla and strawberry ice cream cake. They gave him so many presents and toys, as much as they could afford, but the gift he loved most of all was the guitar. It was just his size, white with golden-yellow accents, and came with several songbooks for self-teaching.  
His father knew how to play piano and organ, having used to play at a local church, and he would bring in albums from his record collection for his son to listen to. Gideon loved music, and Mr. Gleeful could tell the boy was interested in learning an instrument too.  
That summer Gideon learned to play the guitar more quickly than Bud could have ever expected. Somehow he’d taught himself how to play “Oh, Pretty Woman” by ear, and his dad had even caught him trying to write a few of his own songs. His singing wasn’t half bad, either. The boy was clearly very talented, perhaps he had a future as a musician…  
That is, if he had a future at all.

In the early fall, Gideon fell victim to a terrible infection, one that kept him bedridden for weeks. Even once it passed he was still taking numerous medications every day, several times a day. Not wanting their son to miss out on his education, Mr. and Mrs. Gleeful hired a tutor for him, so he could continue his schooling while in the hospital. Math, Reading, Writing, History, Science, French… Gideon excelled in all subjects, and the tutor would tell the parents how remarkably intelligent their child was. For only being seven years old he had an extremely impressive vocabulary, and was quite possibly already on a high school reading level. He could even carry a conversation in French.  
“Such a shame,” the tutor would say, “that a boy so brilliant has so little chance…”

No one believed Gideon had a chance. By late November, his health had reached an all-time worse. Severe illness was frequent and the doctors were constantly running tests, trying to diagnose how long it would be before they would have to give Buddy Gleeful and his wife the worst news imaginable.  
“I’m afraid if cancer doesn’t get him,” one doctor had to be honest with them despite how difficult it was, “the infections will.”  
Another told them their son probably wouldn’t live to see his tenth birthday. To say Gideon’s parents were devastated would not even be scratching the surface. They were broken beyond repair.  
Their child wasn’t terminal, at least not yet according to everyone they spoke to, but to Mr. and Mrs. Gleeful he might as well have been. They did everything they humanly could to make Gideon’s life as comfortable as possible. No material desire was too unreasonable, no earthly request they wouldn’t fulfill. No matter what Gideon asked, they obliged. They spared no expense, they gave him only the best of everything, no matter the cost. There was nothing they wouldn’t do for him. They never said no.  
It didn’t matter as long as it made him happy. That’s all they wanted, for Gideon to have everything he wished and be as happy as anyone could be… in case he didn’t have long for this earth.

The more the adults talked about how Gideon was going to die… the more he wanted to live. The more he wanted out of his hospital room, where he spent most of his time and was usually forced to stay. Unable he exercise he stayed chubby, although his weight didn’t really bother him. With little else to do he listened to his dad’s records, played guitar, read books, did arts and crafts, played with his many, _many_ toys and sometimes, watched TV.  
Normally he didn’t like much of what was on TV, but occasionally, he’d see two things he found interesting. One usually came on late at night, while the other was always on Sundays.  
At night he’d watch people who claimed to be psychic. Apparently, they could read minds, predict the future, communicate with the dead, do all kinds of amazing things. People would call in or actually come on the show and the psychic would somehow guess exactly what they were thinking, or they’d speak to the souls of their deceased friends or relatives. The ones who called would say how the psychic’s vision about the future somehow came true. Gideon couldn’t help but wonder if their powers were real.  
A lot of things on TV were fake, in fact most things were, so probably not. Still, did it even matter? Real or not, everyone seemed so amazed, astounded, and bewildered by these supposed mystics…  
While on Sundays, he’d see preachers. Except these weren’t like the preachers at the churches Gideon and his family used to attend… they were like performers, too. They didn’t just preach, they put on shows, and the audience would get so excited. The way they read from the Bible was almost theatrical, and when they’d sing hymns everyone would join in, as they’d cast the evil out of them.  
It was incredible the affect they had on their audience. Who knew if they were really saving people’s souls, but apparently their audience felt like they had a holy experience, or were at least very entertained.

These people on TV, these psychics, these preachers…  
They were adored, idolized, revered, maybe even rich and famous.  
What Gideon wouldn’t give to be like them. For everyone to love and praise him like that, instead of hate and belittle him. To be respected and admired...  
To live a life like that…  
To live a life at all.

He didn’t want to die.  
He wanted to live… desperately, he wanted to live… _he wanted to live…_

✯

They called it a miracle.  
Somehow, against the odds… Gideon Gleeful made it.  
Even the doctors could hardly believe it. Not only had his condition improved dramatically, all tests pointed to the fact he was now much healthier than they ever thought possible. Of course, his immune system was still weaker than most children so he would need to continue to take medication daily, and regularly apply sunscreen and moisturizer to prevent serious skin damage… but the entire staff of Angels of Hope Children’s Hospital, not to mention Gideon’s own family, were beside themselves in the most elated way. To say he was one very lucky boy would be an understatement.  
Except Gideon knew luck had nothing to do with it. At least, he didn’t think so.  
It was because he refused to give up or give in. It was his willpower, his inner strength that saved him…  
Not that anyone else thought that. Their puny minds couldn’t fathom that a “weak” child like him escaped death simply by wanting it, so badly that he wouldn’t take no for an answer.  
Idiots. He was anything but weak. He was stronger than all of them.

Gideon was discharged from the hospital, for the final time, less than a month after turning eight years old. With the doctors saying it was highly unlikely that he would ever need their services again, as long as he took his medication, the Gleefuls had practically no reason to stay in Texas anymore. Mr. Gleeful not only saw this as finally a chance for his son to have a truly normal life, but for his family to have a fresh start somewhere new.  
He tried to think of somewhere they could go. Bud only knew he wanted it to be a place that was quiet, peaceful, and scenic… somewhere that would be good for their boy. A small, quaint town with lots of fresh air.  
While talking it over with his wife, Mrs. Gleeful mentioned something.  
“Well, one’a my cousins used t’have a summer home in Oregon…”

✯

“Here we are! Gravity Falls…”  
Bud said as he and his family drove into their new home, which was as woodsy and serene as they imagined. Gideon’s icy blue eyes idly gazed out the car window, watching the tall trees as they passed. He was tired from the very long trip, but already, this little Oregon town felt like another world from where he’d spent his entire life up until now.  
The Gleefuls pulled up to what was now their house. It was simple but charming, two stories with a blue roof and a gazebo to the side. Out front was a fountain and a metal gate, vines and flowers wrapping around the archway. Mr. Gleeful hung a sign on the front door that read “Pardon This Garden” while they moved in, although he quickly forgot about it until over a year later when it would be forcibly removed.

That night, Gideon stared out of the window of his new bedroom. Unlike the city the night skies in Gravity Falls were clear, and for the first time, he could actually see the stars. Not the fake kind painted on hospital room walls, real ones, shining brightly and beautifully above him.  
He even saw the evening star, sparkling most magnificently of all. He remembered a fairy tale his father once told him, where if you made a wish on the evening star, it would be sure to come true.  
Even if that didn’t sound like a load of nonsense, Gideon had no need for wishing on stars. He had what he wanted - a life.  
A life that he was finally in control over.  
From now on, he’d be making his own wishes come true

The next day while Mr. and Mrs. Gleeful continued unpacking, Gideon went for a walk. His father told him not to wander off too far, but he went deep into the forest anyway. He’d be fine, he could take care of himself.  
With large, mossy pines and redwoods all around him, he’d never been so surrounded by nature before. It was nice, being out here all alone, with no people around. Good thing it was June already, and all the kids at the Gravity Falls Elementary School were out for the summer. At least for a few months until he started there in the fall, he wouldn’t have to deal with them.  
The chubby boy decided he’d relax for a while against a tree, maybe take a nap. But when he sat down, closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the trunk…  
He heard a peculiar sound.

It was a sound like when you hit a tin drum. Gideon’s icy eyes shot open again as he got up and turned around, looking closer at the tree. Slowly, he knocked on it.  
He heard it again. It was as if the tree were actually made of metal, and hollow. Examining further, he put his hands over the trunk until he felt a small separation. He pulled on it, opening the tree’s secret door…  
And found something strange hidden inside.  
Covered in cobwebs was an odd device, a box that almost looked like an old radio, but it had a little screen that was cracked, with several buttons to one side and two dials on the other. It also had a meter of some kind, with the needle in the center, and on the top were two switches.

Unable to contain his curiosity, Gideon turned one of the dials. Nothing happened. So he turned the other… and heard another sound.  
He turned around to see that several feet away from him, a trap door was opening up on the forest floor, with a mechanical whirring noise that scared away a nearby goat. Rushing over to it, he realized that it wasn’t a trap door, but another secret compartment…  
One that this time, hid a book.  
Despite it also being littered with cobwebs, Gideon reached for it and picked it up, blowing on it to clear some of the dust away.  
It was very old, its leather binding heavily worn in several places, but on the front cover was a shiny, gold, six-fingered hand…  
With the number “2” written on it.

Immediately Gideon opened the book and began to look through it, carefully as not to damage the antiquated pages. Soon, it became clear to the boy that this was no ordinary book…  
It was a journal, written by an unknown author, that cataloged a menagerie of secrets, all supposedly right here in Gravity Falls.  
Unbelievable secrets. _Supernatural_ secrets.  
_Is this… real?_ Gideon thought, awestruck by what he was reading.  
Maybe it really was. Why else would it be hidden in a secret compartment deep in the woods, opened by some weird machine in a hollowed-out tree? Clearly, whoever hid it didn’t want anyone finding it.  
There was only one way to find out. He’d have to find one of these phenomena described.  
He searched the journal, until he came to a certain page.  
“Mystic Amulet”...

✯

Gideon stood in his bedroom with the door locked, the mysterious journal on his bed and the amulet in his hand. It was a round, shiny jade gem, fashioned into what looked like a bolo tie, of all things. With the information in the journal, acquiring it hadn’t proved to be too difficult, and supposedly it granted its owner fantastic mystical powers. He placed it around his neck… it was time to see if that was true.  
Keeping one hand on the amulet, he took a deep breath and focused his energy on a stuffed lamb in the corner of his room. Suddenly, the gem began to glow, and so did the lamb, surrounded by a green aura of matching color.  
Gideon's eyes widened as he slowly lifted his arm, raising the toy into the air, where it now floated.

It was real. It and everything else in the journal was real.  
The eight-year-old dropped the lamb and took off the amulet. He stared at it, stupefied.  
This… changed everything.  
Suddenly, a wide, foreboding smirk crept across the child’s face.  
_This changed everything._  
He didn’t just have control now, he had power… the power to turn his life upside-down.  
At long last, he’d no longer be the “albino freak” that everyone mocked and mistreated. No, he’d be idolized and revered, exalted and glorified. He’d be famous, loved and adored by the masses…  
He’d be a _celebrity._  
Finally, he had a chance. A chance to show those mouth breathing, asinine fools how he was no lesser human being.  
He’d show them all how great how he was, how much _better_ he was. Better than everyone…  
Greater than anyone else could EVER hope to be.

Gideon Gleeful laughed. He cackled in a way that could only be described as maniacal, and sinister.  
_Look out, world…_ he thought.  
_Here comes Lil’ Gideon!_

✯

“Hey dad, think of a number. Any number.”  
Gideon stood next to his father who was sitting on his reclining chair in the living room. Buddy Gleeful smiled at the boy with a small chuckle. “What for, son?” he asked.  
“Just do it.” Gideon replied, keeping one hand in his jacket pocket… and on the amulet inside.  
“Hmm… alright.” Bud said, now thinking of the number five.  
“It’s five.”  
Mr. Gleeful briefly raised a brow at the eight-year-old before laughing again. “Lucky guess, boy! Now let’s see ya do it again.” He was now thinking of six hundred and eighteen.  
“Six hundred and eighteen.”  
Bud stared at his son a little longer this time. There’s no way he could get three in a row, right? Gideon’s father thought of negative eight.  
“Negative eight.”  
That’s impossible. No one would guess a negative number.

Mr. Gleeful gaped at his child, absolutely aghast. “S-Sunshine, are you--”  
“Psychic? Yep. And readin’ minds ain’t all I can do. Watch...”  
Gideon turned to look at an unlit aromatherapy candle sitting on the living room table. Narrowing his eyes at it, he concentrated, and…  
Suddenly, a flame appeared on its wick.  
Bud’s jaw dropped, unable to believe his eyes… while Gideon just smiled.  
“... D-Darlin’! DARLIN’ COME IN HERE!” the man stammered, calling for his wife in the other room.  
Upon demonstrating his powers to his mother, she fainted. Once Mrs. Gleeful was conscious again, Bud called the newspaper, the radio, the TV station, everyone in the media that he could.  
Their son had more than a gift...  
He had a ticket to stardom.

✯

Bud managed to schedule Gideon an interview with the local news, although not for a couple of days. Apparently they didn’t take Mr. Gleeful’s claim that his son had mind-boggling psychic powers too seriously, but at least it gave Gideon time to get things in order.  
The next day, Gideon received a package in the mail. It was something he had custom ordered and shipped overnight…  
A cyan suit with white buttons, made exactly his size. After taking it out of the box he immediately put it on, and with a black dress shirt underneath and polished brown shoes, he was beginning to look like one dapper little man. The only thing missing was a tie…  
A bolo tie, to be exact. Gideon placed the mystic amulet around his neck - it went with the outfit perfectly.  
Now he just needed to do something about his hair…

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, Gideon unbraided his long white hair. After brushing it out, he took several tubes of gel and cans of hairspray and put his hair into a brand new style - a large pompadour, as big as his head if not bigger due to his hair’s length.  
He grinned proudly into the mirror. Now THIS was the Gideon he wanted to look like…  
Except for one little thing.  
Gideon took off his glasses and squinted. Oh heavens to betsy, he couldn’t see an inch in front of his face. Still, he couldn’t keep wearing these stupid, humiliating things…  
“FATHER!” he called for his dad, who came as quickly as he could.  
“What is it, sugar-pie?” Mr. Gleeful asked.  
“I want contact lenses.” he replied.  
“Contacts?” Bud questioned. “Ain’t ya a lil’ young for those?”  
“I SAID I WANT CONTACTS!” Gideon demanded, turning to his father furiously.  
“Y-Yes, a’course, we can go get ‘em right now…!” the man agreed timidly. He couldn’t say no to his boy. Anything for Gideon, his little miracle… who was now even more miraculous than before.

Bud took Gideon to the optometrist where he was able to acquire specialty prescription contact lenses, which the chubby boy insisted he put in right away. On their way home they stopped at a general store for more hairspray and gel, and while checking out, Gideon spotted a display of small pins shaped like the American flag.  
He took one and placed on the left lapel of his suit. It was the last little touch he needed to complete his new persona.

✯

Any and all skepticism the news crew might have had about the legitimacy of Gideon’s abilities was laid to rest with his first television interview. Like he had done with his parents, he proved his powers to them by reading their minds, lighting a candle and then making it float. The reporter and everybody at the TV station were flabbergasted at what they were witnessing, and the same could probably be said for most anyone else in Gravity Falls who was watching.  
“So, Gideon--” the reporter began.  
“That’s LIL’ Gideon!” he corrected her.  
“Right, Lil’ Gideon! After that astonishing demonstration, I’m sure all the folks at home want to know, because I know I do, where and when can we get a full reading from you?” she asked.  
“Well Sandra, y’all are in luck, ‘cause tomorrow night’s the grand openin’ of my Tent o’ Telepathy! Where everyone can come on down and see lil’ ol’ me perform mind-bendin’ feats of psychic wonder every day! For a lil’ ol’ fee, a’course~” Gideon giggled, cutely winking and smiling. Sandra looked simply delighted.  
“Aw, now isn’t he just adorable? You heard it here, Lil’ Gideon’s Tent of Telepathy, opening tomorrow night right here in Gravity Falls!”

However, there was one resident tuned into Gideon’s interview who was less than impressed. A gruff-voiced old man, sitting in a reclining chair in front of the TV, wearing only a white undershirt, his boxer shorts, slippers, and a fez atop his head.  
“Tent of Telepathy?” he asked aloud, narrowing his eyes at his television set.  
“Little shyster better not give the Mystery Shack any competition…”

After his son stepped off set, Bud looked at Gideon with more than a bit of concern. “Boy, what’s this about a ‘Tent of Telepathy’?” he asked, this being the first time he’d heard anything about it.  
Out of his suit pocket, the eight-year-old took a piece of paper and unfolded it, handing it to his father. It was a crayon drawing of a large tent, and on top was a five-colored star with a single eye in the center.  
“Get ta’work.” Gideon ordered, snapping his fingers.

✯

While his venue was being prepared by the handyman his dad hired, Gideon had more time to look through the journal and examine its entries more closely. Yet, he found himself staring at a single page for hours…  
Until he had an epiphany.  
It was a blueprint… except it was incomplete.  
He looked again at the front of the book. The number 2…  
That meant somewhere, there had to be a number 1.  
Of course, it all made sense now. The rest of the blueprint had to be in journal number 1. Whoever wrote these must have hid them where they thought no one would ever find them, because they knew if the journals were ever brought together…  
They’d unleash a gateway to unimaginable power.  
The chubby-cheeked boy smirked. Rest assured, someday he’d find the other journal, and claim that power for himself.

In the meantime, he had his debut performance to get ready for. His mother had finished sewing him a cape that he asked for, which he put on right away. It was white with a couple of sparkly gems and the five-colored, one-eyed star symbol, the same one that now sat atop his all-new Tent of Telepathy.  
After it was built, Bud and his son spent the rest of the day rehearsing a song that Gideon wrote, one that would be the opener for his show tonight. Until the evening, when his audience began to arrive.  
Not only were there Gravity Falls locals, but groups of tourists had decided to take in the experience as well. It was quite the turnout, with a full house (or tent, rather) and the “psychic sack” that collected the admission fees overflowing with cash.  
Five minutes until he went onstage. Backstage, Gideon drank some water and took a lozenge, to make sure his throat and voice were clear. His father approached him.  
“Ya ready, son?” he asked.

Gideon grinned. All along, he knew he never needed any wishing stars. He WAS the star. Sure, he may have had some help from one of the mysterious journals revealing Gravity Falls’ secret dark side… but in the end, his embittered, cold eyes saw the opportunity, and he didn’t let it pass him by. He took it, without any hesitation.  
He made his life what it is now.

“I was born ready.”

The spotlight was pointed at the curtain.  
He stepped out onto the stage, and the curtain opened.  
It was showtime.

“Hello, America! My name is Lil’ Gideon!”

✯


End file.
